


Problem Solver

by Severina



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Community: lands_of_magic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4995820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Belle is upset that none of the children are visiting their house for candy on Hallowe'en, Rumplestiltskin sets out to solve the problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Problem Solver

**Author's Note:**

> Season Two-ish, presuming that our heroes got some downtime for once. Written for LJ's lands_of_magic 's Hallowe'en Mini Bang, for the prompt "candy".
> 
> * * *

"Do you think we have enough?"

Rumplestiltskin leaned on his cane and surveyed the overflowing bowls filling the foyer. He spotted three different types of chocolate bars and two flavours of chips, a cascade of lollipops in a riot of colours, a garish display of bright orange pumpkin balls that he assumed were also filled with chocolate, candy kisses piled so high they nearly toppled over the rim of the bowl and-- 

He narrowed his eyes. It appeared his love had not only bought out half of Storybrooke's candy supply, but she'd also raided his cupboards _and_ the shop in order to find containers to place them in. "Belle," he said in exasperation, "that bowl—"

Belle blinked, followed his pointing finger to the plain white container edged in simple gold leaf. "Yes, Rumple?"

Rumplestiltskin paused, taking in the happy and expectant look on her face. Did it really matter that she had chosen to pile some of her candies in a rare and absolutely irreplaceable mortar, one of only three in the known realms, one that when combined with its matching pestle – a pestle that he'd been searching for in vain for _two centuries_ \-- could bring unimaginable power to the one who used it? Did the joy on his Belle's face not outweigh his concern that the bowl may be damaged or – he clenched his eyes together, his head swimming at the mere thought – stolen entirely? He curled his fingers on the nob of his cane until his heartbeat regained something like its regular rhythm, and only then did he open his eyes. 

"It certainly shows off the colours in the wrappings nicely," he finished lamely.

"Well thank you," she said, smiling as she laid a hand on her hip and took in the array of bowls with a critical eye. "But do you think we have enough candy for all the children?"

Rumplestiltskin privately expected to gain ten pounds in November from the leftovers, but kept his opinion to himself and wrapped an arm around her waist. "I think we have plenty, sweetheart."

"I've put two bags of chocolate bars and a bag of candy corn aside in the pantry just in case," she told him. 

Rumplestiltskin stifled a groan and mentally added an extra five pounds on to his November weight gain estimate. He may just have to contact his tailor and see about letting out the waists in a few pairs of trousers.

* * *

An hour later, Rumplestiltskin looked up from the _Mirror_ when Belle strode into the sitting room for the fifth time in as many minutes. "Still no one?"

Her teeth worried at her bottom lip. "Not a soul. I just don't understand. All the children dropping by the library have been so excited about tonight!"

His gaze flicked to the darkened window. "It still early," he lied. "It may be that the children are still at home eating their dinner and getting into their costumes."

Belle shook her head. "I've seen several groups of children go up to the Muffet house across the street. Then they just scurry off!" Her fingers twisted into knots in front of her pretty blue skirt, and he watched her dart her eyes away from him to take in the night pressing in on the window. She couldn't meet his eyes when she spoke next. "You don't… you don't think they're frightened of us, do you Rumple?"

"Pfft. Of course not, Belle," Rumplestiltskin answered. He levered himself out of his chair and took her hands, smoothing his thumbs against the back of her fingers until she relaxed. "Perhaps they're simply heading home to dump out their little treats before they return to go down our side of the street. I'm sure that's all it is, sweetheart."

"Yes," she said once, her voice wavering; then more firmly with a sharp nod, "Yes, of course. You must be right. I'll… I'll keep watch at the door, then."

He released her hands to let her step away. "Why don't I make you a nice healthy snack to munch on while you're waiting? We don't want you eating all the goodies before the little monsters arrive, do we?" he teased.

"Thank you, Rumple, that would be very nice," she called over her shoulder. 

But he barely heard her, because he'd pointed a finger at the counter and conjured a sandwich and some sliced vegetables as soon as he reached the kitchen doorway, his mind already elsewhere. If she'd glanced back through the house she may have seen the last hint of purple smoke as he wrapped himself in his magic and transported himself away.

* * *

"I know you're up to something, Regina!"

He had the minute pleasure of seeing her stifle a startled gasp before she turned to him. "Gold," she said. "I don't recall inviting you to my home this evening."

"I don't know what little game you're playing—"

"Game?"

"—but I warn you, you do not want to incur my wrath. I spared you once. I've no intention of doing it again!"

"If you consider setting a wraith on me to be 'sparing me'," Regina answered. She set her glass of red wine on the mantle and stepped forward, spiked heels digging dents into the carpet as she glided across the room. "Why are you here, Gold?"

Rumplestiltskin cocked his head. She certainly appeared to be perplexed by his sudden appearance at her house, but Regina had had years to perfect playing the innocent; years in which she played the doting stepmother and devoted wife while plotting the murder of her husband and the ruination of a kingdom. He lifted a hand, pointed lavishly toward the darkened streets beyond her door. "It's Hallowe'en," he said simply.

"And?"

"None of the children are visiting my house."

"And you think that's _my_ fault? Please," Regina sneered. "Can you blame them? You're the Dark One! For all they know you'll turn them into a toad if you don't like their costumes!"

"I would not turn anyone into a toad," Rumplestiltskin huffed out. "Certainly not for wrapping a white sheet around themselves and considering themselves a ghost, when everyone knows that true specters from the nether realms have multiple limbs and quite the elongated jawline. All the better to rip the flesh from the bone."

"Tell that to a ten year old who's grown up on stories of how the Dark One will steal him away from his crib if he's naughty," Regina said. "They fear you, Gold."

"I seem to recall several bedtime stories about the Evil Queen that would curl a few toes," Rumplestiltskin countered.

Regina arched a brow, gestured expansively to her ornate foyer. "And do you see any little rugrats darkening my door this Hallowe'en?" she asked. Rumplestiltskin slumped, and Regina took that opportunity to sidle a little closer. "Why are you _really_ here, Gold?"

"It's upsetting Belle," Rumplestiltskin admitted.

"Aaaah, the truth comes out," Regina said. "It's the little maid's feelings that you care about."

"What's upsetting Belle?"

"Nothing that you need concern yourself about, Henry," Regina said, giving him a quick look that would melt glass before spinning on her heels and setting a plastic smile quickly in place as she laid a hand proprietarily on her son's shoulder. "Hurry now, or you'll be too late to get any candy."

"Hi, Grandpa Gold," Henry said, ignoring his mother completely to peek around her sheltering form. "What's upsetting Belle?"

"Hello, Henry," Rumplestiltskin answered. The sand-coloured robes the child sported appeared to indicate he was costumed as a desert nomad, though Rumplestiltskin was at a loss to understand what the glowing stick he carried was supposed to represent. "Well, you see—"

"Aren't you supposed to meet Paige at the end of the block?" Regina interrupted.

"Her name is _Grace_ , and Grandpa Gold is _talking_ ," Henry answered with an irritated glance at his mother.

"Thank you, Henry," Rumplestiltskin said. He did his best to hide his smug grin from Regina, turned his full attention on the boy. He would never hurt the child – not now, not anymore – but he was certainly not above using a little of Henry's innate goodness for his own ends if it could help his Belle. "As I was saying, Belle is quite upset that none of the Storybrooke children have visited our house for Hallowe'en. She's laid in quite a feast of chocolate and treats."

"And I'm sure she'll have many visitors shortly," Regina said. "Now come along and—"

"I'll go!" Henry piped up.

Rumplestiltskin clasped his hands together. "That would be lovely, Henry."

"Oh, I don't think—"

"And I can bring my friends, too!" Henry continued enthusiastically. "Everybody likes Belle! She did this thing at school, my whole class had to go to the auditorium and she gave a little speech about the new library. And then she gave out chocolate chip cookies." Henry leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "Half of my friends have big crushes on her, Grandpa Gold."

"That's understandable, Henry," Rumplestiltskin said, bending at the waist and lowering his voice to match his grandson's. "I have quite a big crush on her myself." 

"I don't think—" Regina began.

He shared a smile with Henry before straightening and meeting Regina's frosty glare. "I'm certain you'll make sure my grandson and his friends reach my home safely?"

The venom in Regina's answering smile could have felled a yaoguai at twenty paces. "Absolutely," she seethed out. 

Rumplestiltskin nodded, waving a hand dismissively and emerging back in his own kitchen before Belle had even realized he'd left. That, he mused as he added a glass of hot cocoa to her tray, worked out _much_ better than expected. Children were safe with him, after all, but he'd have had no compunction about turning Regina into a toad.

* * *

"I can hardly keep up!" Belle said forty five minutes later, laughing breathlessly.

The latest group of children had just skipped away from their doorstep, and Rumplestiltskin's quick glance at the serving bowls lining the foyer showed that much of their candy supply had been handily depleted. He carefully leaned his cane against the wall before tugging Belle into his arms. "They saved the best for last, my dear," he murmured into her hair.

She sighed happily, resting her back against his chest as she nipped at a corner of her roast beef on rye. She was warm and pliant in his arms, and Rumplestiltskin was just about to suggest that they turn off the lights and head upstairs, perhaps to a soothing bubble bath, when she abruptly pushed away from him with a surprised giggle. "Rumple!" she said over her shoulder.

So his body had betrayed him – perhaps a bubble bath was not the entirety of what he had in mind were they to retire to the upper level – but Rumplestiltskin refused to blush. He merely arched a brow and made a playful grab for his love, and had the pleasure of seeing a flush suffuse Belle's cheeks instead as she squealed and darted away from his grasping hand. 

"Trick or treat!"

Rumplestiltskin stifled a groan at the chorus of voices from the verandah, then pursed his lips when Belle playfully stuck her tongue out at him before turning to happily greet the children. He watched for a moment, entranced as always by her ready smile, her patience, and her quick and easy way with people – especially the littlest ones – before he took up his cane and hobbled back to the sitting room. 

There would be plenty of time for them later. For now he was pleased enough to be a witness to Belle's joy at being the star attraction this Hallowe'en night. 

Yes. Pleased. 

He shifted in his armchair, listened to the rise and fall of Belle's lilting voice as she chatted with the children, and most definitely did not think about divesting her of her clothes and slipping with her into the hot water. He did not contemplate the flickering of the candlelight; did not think of slick skin, lingering touches and soft sighs.

Not at all.


End file.
